The Chronicles of Dylan the Lamp
by drawnoflife
Summary: After Fang leaves (in "FANG"), Max drowns her sorrows by finding someone new. No, not Dylan-the-Hybrid, Dylan the Talking Lamp (TM). Complete Crack Fic ensues.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This fic was inspired by the (hilarious) reviews on goodreads . com for the later Maximum Ride books, in which many compare Dylan to various inanimate objects, such as coat hangers, bookshelves, and lamps. Add his list of virtues (hot, can sing, catchphrase: "I Love You Max") and you get a crack fic.

I apologise in advance for any mental scarring this may cause you.

Chapter One: A Broken Heart Can Totally Mess Up Your Brain and Social Life

Max's POV

As I sat on the bed, sobbing my eyes out, I thought to myself, 'wow, this is the most pathetic thing I've ever done." I should be stronger than this. So what that my bastard of a brother/best friend/right hand man/boyfirend left? I was the kick-butt, bad-a Maximum Ride! Defender of the Flock! Future Rescuer of the world! I eat evil for breakfast! I can-!

Another heave of sobs came out.

'I can can cry like Toby Miguire,' I thought bitterly. I vaugely noticed Nudge rubbing my back comfortingly, her tears practically nonexistent now, though her eyes were puffy. The rest of the Flock was in a similar state. Dylan mostly stood by awkwardly, but that's how he normally stands, so I didn't really notice.

With his usual lack of tact, Dylan opened his mouth and said, "Hey, now that he's gone, you can stop running away from your feelings and love me!"

An oppressive silence settled upon the room, dark and murderous.

I shot a death glare at him. A glare that could freeze the gods. A glare that would kill small children. A glare that even surpassed the one given to Iggy after he dyed all of my clothing pink (luckily for him, he couldn't see it, so he was still alive).

Unfortunately, Dylan seemed to be even more oblivious then we thought, as he walked up to me, holding his arms out for a hug with a large smile across his face.

My face twitched. My fist collided quite forcefully with his nose; a satisfying 'crack' sounding through the room.

"Ah, that's better," I said, being the sweet and gentle person I was, as I wiped my bloody knuckles on my jeans.

I turned back to the Flock, "I'll be in the living room, watching crappy Soaps if anyone needs me."

Today, I was in desperate need of some freaking ice-cream/movie time.

And no one, I repeat NO ONE, was gonna get in my way.

A/N: Eh, pretty short, but they'll get longer. And hopefully better...as well as far crack-ey-er *creepy grin*. Anyways, this is my first mulitichapter fic, so this'll be interesting *nervous laugh*, and it's CRACK of all things...*sighs* On another note, I know it doesn't seem very crack-ey right now, but it will be soon...*creepy grin*

Thank you very much for reading!  
*bows*


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hmm, not much to say, other than thank you to CakeIsAGoodFriend for following! Please enjoy!

Chapter 2: The Descent Into Sugar-Induced Madness

5 Days Later

I'd finally gotten the 'F' word out of my mind and vocabulary. No, not THE "F" word, the other, more personal one. Sitting on the couch watching Hulu on Fa―our laptop while eating a crap load of pizza was practically my life at the moment. Why pizza? Well―

Hmmm.

"IGGY! GET ME SOME EFF'N ICE-CREAM, NOW!" I yelled, not even bothering to move my eyes from the screen. A "yes, ma'am!" came from the kitchen. I'd trained them in the past few days to follow my orders. I have no clue why they'd choose to start following them now, lord knows I've tried to do it in the past.

Perhaps it was the fact that I'd taken to roundhouse kicking people if they didn't follow my orders... What? I'm a bit impulsive these days, okay?

Iggy delivered the ice-cream, speeding away before I could even think of meeting his face with my foot again. Pft, paranoid kid.

I clicked on the next episode of Yo Gabba Gabba (don't judge! I had no childhood, remember?). Before the show started, however, a commercial popped up. Not just any commercial, though.

A Three. Minute. Long. Commercial.

.

My patience broke.

"Oh my ****'in gosh, we are BUYING ****in HULU PLUS SO I NEVER HAVE TO SEE ANOTHER ONE OF THESE ****IN COMMERCIALS EVER ****IN AGAIN!" I shouted, spit flying out of my mouth and flailing my arms in the air. I almost sent my foot through the screen of the laptop, but froze when I saw the screen.

A preview for an anime called "D.N. Angel" was playing, but that wasn't what stopped me.

An action scene played, the main character swooping around. I had to admit, for a cartoon character, he was sexy; had black hair and black wings. That brought to mind a certain sexy man with wings who happened to be MY sexy man with wings. Well, until a few days ago.

I sniffed pitifully, my tears streaming out like rivers. "Stupid commercial," I mumbled bitterly, "stupid anime, stupid sexy men with wings..."

"Did someone gorgeous say 'sexy man with wings?'" Dylan said smarmily, sliding next to the couch. I roundhouse kicked him in the face.

"Not you, Bieber!" I yelled, tears halting in a brief moment of rage. Satisfied that he was gone, I turned back to the laptop, ready to lose myself in some mind-numbing television.

Hmmm...

"IGGY! CHOCOLATE! NOW!"

-―-―-

*Faaaaaang! This is serious. You have to come back. Now!* Nudge pleaded, typing the message furiously into the chat engine. Sitting at the top of one of the trees near the house, Nudge anxiously fiddled with the bark of the branch while she waited for a reply.

*bing*

Nudge looked down at the screen.  
*Nudge, you know I can't do that,* Fang replied.  
(What, you seriously think that Fang would leave without some kind of emergency form of communication?)

*But Fang, it's getting really serious now. Max keeps roundhouse kicking everyone and mumbling about sexy men!* Nudge typed desperately.

A few extra seconds passed before Fang replied, *sounds okay to me.*

Nudge's face turned solemn. "She's been watching the entirety of Yo Gabba Gabba," she typed, a mixture of horror and pity in her expression.

A pause.

*Okay, that's pretty bad,* Fang admitted, *but she's Maximum Ride. She'll get through this, she just needs time to cool down a bit.*

Nudge bit her lip in anxiety. *I suppose so,* she finally wrote before saying goodbye and logging off. She took a deep breath, hoping that Max would get a grip. Judging from the amount of swearing, however, she doubted that Max would be over this anytime soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Ahh, I finished this way later than I had hoped. And it's tragically short. *cries inside slightly* But, no matter! The crack shall be delivered now!**

Chapter 3: Infomercials Are More Dangerous Than They Appear

Four _more_ days later...

Gazzy edged slowly into the living room. Max had been silent for over an hour, so he was extra cautious when she had called for him. Moving slowly to the front of the couch, he was greeted by the sight of Mas sitting on the floor in front of the TV, absentmindedly stroking the screen; her eyes glazed over in what could only be called hunger.

"Uh, Max?" Gazzy whispered, seriously creeped out now. He coughed, then raised his voice slightly, "Max?" He tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

Max spun around and leaped off the couch, grabbing Gazzy and pinning him to the floor.

"PEASANT!" she bellowed, "I REQUIRE YOUR ASSISTANCE!"

Gazzy yelped at her voice and replied shakily, "Y-y-yes? What d-do you w-want?"

"I NEED THIS!" She pointed at the television.

"Uh, the T-TV?" he asked carefully. Max rolled her eyes. "No, I need a DYLAN!"

Gazzy pinted down the hall, "Uh, D-dylan's still t-tied up in the kitchen, l-like you w-wanted him."

Max snarled. "Not him," she leaned in very closely, "I. Need. A Dylan. Lamp."

"SurethingI'llgogetyahoneofthosesoplease letgoofme?!" he yelled as fast as he could, attempting to pry Max's hands off him and escape. Max smiled, her eyes creepily out of focus.

She let go of him, shouting, "NOW GO FULFILL YOUR BOUNTIOUS QUEST, AND BECOME A POKEMON MASTER!"

Gazzy had never run so fast in his life.

.0.0.0.

"NUDGE! WHAT THE ** IS A DYLAN LAMP!?"

Gazzy stumbled into Nudge's room, the designated headquarters of the Staying The Heck Out Of Max's Way Association. STHOOMWA, for short. Angel waggled her finger at him. "Gazzy, don't swear."

"I really don't care at the moment," he turned to Nudge, "so, what is a Dylan lamp?"

Nudge had no idea, so she turned to the computer, which was salvaged from the living room earlier in the week. Opening a search engine and typing in 'Dylan Lamp,' Nudge found it.

"Dear me..." she mumbled. Gazzy practically crawled over her shoulder to see the screen. His eyes widened in confusion.

"A SINGING LAMP?!"

"What about a singing lamp?" Iggy said, coming into the room. Nudge began reading off of the website.

"'Dylan the Lamp ™ is the most cutting edge product in lighting history. It all started with its creator, Josh Brando, and his quest to—'"

"Summary, please."

"Well," Nudge said, fiddling with the computer mouse, "essentially, it's a lamp that sings 'Never Gonna Give You Up' by Rick Astley while swinging its..."arms" rhythmically."

"And Max wants one," Angel added somberly.

"AND, she practically strangled me for it," Gazzy grumbled darkly.

Silence settled across the room.

Finally, Iggy sighed resolutely and stated, "I suppose the only thing to do is get her the lamp until we can think up a solution to this whole mess."

The silence came again. Three seconds, four seconds, five seconds...

"May God have mercy on us all..."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Yay, I _finally _got the next chapter out! *dances* I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 4: Planning Meetings Are More Effective In The Movies

"Never gonna GIVE YOU UP, never gonna LET YOU DOOoooowwn, never gonna RUN. A. ROUND. And DE-SERT! YOU!"

The tinny voice coming from the lamp continued to play on a loop, though it's music was largely overwhelmed by Max's..._enthusiastic_ sing along. She danced and pranced and cried hysterically along with the music.

Meanwhile, down the hall, the rest of the Flock (plus Dylan, who had been retrieved from the kitchen) was trying to decide what to do.

It wasn't going well.

"How about _explosives_," Gazzy said for the upteenth time.

Nudge rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly. "Gazzy, for the _last time_, explosives will _NOT HELP_ in this situation!" She said, finally understanding why Max got those killer headaches all the time.

Max. Ugh, the headache just got bigger.

Ignoring Gazzy's dramatic sigh, Nudge went back to racking her brain for a plan. Racking, racking, racking...aaaaaaaannd, nothing. Again.

The four sighed, annoyed by their lack of planning prowess. Dylan was currently curled up in the corner mumbling and jumping at anything that sounded even _vaguely_ like 'Max,' so he wasn't really being of much help.

Then, Angel brought up the dreaded, and most effective, solution of the night.

"We really need to get Fang here, right?"

The same Fang who was being insanely resistant to coming back?

"Yes."

Angel wrapped a lock of hair around her finger. "How about we tell him that Dylan and Max are obsessed with each other, and that we're being totally neglected?"

A smile snaked its way onto Nudge's face. "He DID leave so that we wouldn't be neglected..."

"Not to mention that Fang totally hate Dylan," Iggy piped up.

"And," Gazzy said, "there is no way that he would suspect that 'Dylan' is actually a lamp..."

The Flocked grinned at each other.

Execpt Dylan. He was still whimpering in the corner.


End file.
